Burashi no Hentai
by mooniestar-69
Summary: Ichigo loses his only hairbrush one day, and is on the search to find it. Who knew that it was stolen by someone in his very own house! Will he ever get it back? IchigoXRukia pairing. Rated T for implied, uh... tension relief techniques. Please review!


**Author's Note**: Hi hi, everyone. Mooniestar here, yet again! I'm sure you're getting really bored with all these Bleach fics, but I just can't help it. For the past few days, I've been absolutely enthralled with the Bleach Rock Musicals, all of which you can find subbed on Youtube. They really make the characters come to life in a way the anime can't. And you get to see characters interact with each other that would have never met each other otherwise. It's very heartfelt and uplifting. Check it out if you can.

Oh right, the fic. Anyway, this fic is of an ecchi-like nature, starring Ichigo and Rukia as the pairing. There is a hidden pairing, and I don't want to give it away. This fic is categorized as humor, so I hope you get a few chuckles out of it. Please review afterwards, okay? Thank you!!

I don't own Bleach or any of the characters. Kubo-san was the lucky guy for that to happen to.

Burashi no Hentai

Ichigo Kurosaki was at a loss. How could it have just disappeared like that? It had been there the night before, in the same place he always kept it. He didn't expect that anyone could've taken it, and he had searched all around his bedroom, the living room, the bathroom, and even the linen closet. It couldn't have just gotten up and walked away. He had to find it before class, otherwise it would ruin his carefully planned out image. Yes, he needed it and if he did find out someone had stolen it without him knowing, he would not be a happy camper. Opening his bedroom door, he heard activity from the kitchen.

"Karin, is that you?" he asked, coming down the stairs. The morning sun was streaming through the window over the sink, where his oldest sister was washing a few dishes.

"Yeah, what do you want?" she asked shortly, rubbing her tired eyes with the back of her hand. She seemed to have gotten up extra early to clean the mess from last night's dinner.

"Have you seen my hairbrush anywhere?" Ichigo asked her, stretching his arms over his head.

"Nope, haven't seen it around. Don't you ever keep up with your stuff, nii-san?" she replied simply as she finished washing the last glass, drying her hands on her apron.

"Yeah, usually. Well, if you see it, just throw it in my room or something, would ya?" He sighed, running his hand through his bangs. He could feel his hair hanging limply, and he scratched his scalp absentmindedly. It has to be around here somewhere.

As if on pure habit, or perhaps instinct, Ichigo dodged sharply to the left and his father came crashing through the doorway. Isshin Kurosaki found himself landing on his back, feet against the wall. Ichigo heard Karin give a silent sigh, coming down from the step stool.

"Do you have to make such a racket so early in the morning?" she chastised.

"Of course!" he grunted, righting himself and standing straight up, pumping a cheerful fist into the air, "It's a Kurosaki tradition, passed from many a father-to-son over hundreds of generations!"

"Well at least it keeps you on your toes, huh, Ichigo?" his sister said half-jokingly. Ichigo didn't laugh.

"Dad, you haven't seen my hairbrush anywhere, have you?" He didn't think it would hurt to ask. Instantly, his father was by his side, a serious look on his face that contrasted his grand entrance.

"Son, there's only one reason why a boy your age would need a hairbrush," he said solemnly. Ichigo stared, slightly confused. Suddenly, his father grabbed him by his shoulders, grinning widely.

"You want to look good for the ladies, am I right?" he declared, winking suggestively. His son's fist caught him swiftly between the eyes. Isshin was launched backwards, sliding across the table.

"So that means 'no' then," Ichigo stated blandly, turning to leave.

"Ah, who knew you were so sensitive about girls..." he heard his father mumble.

As Ichigo went to go search his room again, Yuzu came out of her bedroom, still in her pajamas. She had slept in her pigtails, and her bangs stood up awkwardly.

"Are you guys fighting again?" she asked quietly, giving a big yawn.

"Nah, nothing out of the ordinary," he answered, patting her disheveled head.

"Okay..." Without another word, she left for downstairs. Ichigo stood in his doorway, deciding not to ask his littlest sister. She only just woke up after all, so he would ask later. And that cancels out all the occupants in the house. So how did his hairbrush get lost? Wait... The orange-haired boy walked into his room and closed the door. He stood in front of his closet.

"Rukia," he called, then waited for her answer. "Oi, Rukia." No answer. Maybe she was sleeping in. Ichigo gave a few light taps to the door, then paused. He heard her give a sleepy groan.

"Go away," she ordered lazily. He cocked an eyebrow. Since when was she so grumpy?

"We're going to be late for class, you know. It's already 7:30," he informed her, crossing his arms over his chest. Suddenly, he heard frantic thumps from inside and the door flew open. Rukia promptly jumped out, knocking Ichigo to the floor.

"I'm gonna be late!" she cried, flailing her arms as she tried getting up.

"Ow, watch it!" he yelled from underneath her. Her black hair was in disarray, sticking up in the front. The bed clothes she had 'borrowed' from Karin were twisted around her body, and... Ichigo's eyes widened. The buttons from her top had come undone and, not only that, but his hand had landed directly onto her left breast, half-exposed to the world. He could briefly feel her heartbeat, racing inside her. Rukia shot backwards, gaping at the boy in front of her.

"I'm sorry!" they both shouted, and then there was silence. Ichigo was stunned, his palm tingling from the sensation. Honestly... he didn't think it would be so soft. Rukia hastily clenched both sides of her night shirt together and she got to her feet, blushing furiously.

"Sorry," he repeated, standing up as well. "I'll... I'll be waiting outside for you."

"No, go on ahead," she whispered, staring at the floor. He didn't argue, and left the room, his face feeling slightly hotter than normal. As soon as he had vacated the room, Rukia reached inside his closet for her school uniform. In all the time that she had been around him, not once had he even touched her, accident or not. It was so strange to her...

With fifteen minutes to go, Rukia grabbed her school bag and leapt skillfully from his window. His family still didn't know that she was living in his room, and she was going to make sure it stayed that way. She was surprised to see Ichigo waiting at the corner.

As soon as Rukia reached him, he started to walk to school, not saying a word. She didn't protest, and decided to walk behind him in silence. Yes, in times like these, it was best to say nothing at all. The first bell rung just as both of them entered the classroom.

The morning seemed to pass pretty quickly, although everyone gave a simultaneous groan when their instructor announced a pop quiz on European history.

"Aw! Why can't it be something easy, like Japanese history?" One student complained. The class gave a general agreement and Ichigo could see why. However, his mind wasn't necessarily on the lesson today. For some reason, he kept remembering how the occupant of his closet was on top of him this morning, in such a state of disorder that wasn't like her at all... and yet it suited her perfectly. He clenched his eyes shut, shaking his head in hopes of shaking out the thoughts. He can't be thinking of her right now!

Luckily, lunch break came around and Ichigo was thankful that Karin had made his bento the night before. Climbing up to the school roof, he sat by the fence by himself, enjoying the light breeze that passed by. However, he wasn't the only one there. Out of sight, he sensed Rukia on the other side, her spirit energy spiking up at odd intervals. He swallowed his last rice ball and threw away the box before heading to the other side. He sensed that there was some major tension between them, and he felt that it needed to be cleared up. Ichigo didn't like having things like this hanging over his head.

Peeking behind the corner, he saw the raven-haired girl sitting sideways, facing the fence, and staring out at seemingly nothing. As Ichigo tiptoed closer, he noticed something... odd. One of her legs was bent with her foot planted on the concrete, the other leg stretched out. Her skirt billowed lightly and he caught a very rare glimpse of her underwear. Ichigo's heart thumped in his chest. Not only were her panties visible, he wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. No, it couldn't be. It had to be his over-active imagination. She wasn't... was she? He squinted his eyes to get a better look, holding his breath.

Rukia Kuchiki was touching herself. On school grounds no less! He swallowed silently as he observed this erotic sight. He noted that she was only touching the outside of her underwear, but nonetheless, it was what it was. Surely she didn't do this every day, did she? Wasn't she afraid of getting caught? If anyone was in a position of catching her, it would be him. But he wasn't about to make a fool of himself and step forward. He slipped away just as quietly as he had approached, although he came away with a scarlet face and a rapid heartbeat. Thankfully, she did not take notice.

Ten minutes later, everyone had returned to class. Before their teacher came back as well, Rukia turned to him from her desk, looking quite serious.

"Ichigo, I want to apologize again. For this morning, that is." Her face was a tad flushed.

"Oh... no, it's okay. I'm just glad we weren't late to school. I know you've had perfect attendance so far. Wouldn't want to ruin your streak," he answered calmly.

"Well, that's not what I, um..." she stammered. Rukia lowered her voice and leaned closer. "I meant the other thing."

"What other thing?" he asked. But he knew perfectly well what she was referring to. Honestly, how could he forget?

"What? I'm talking about... oh, never mind then." She ended the conversation before she embarrassed herself. If Ichigo refused to acknowledge it, then she wouldn't bring it up anymore. They sat in silence for the rest of the afternoon, half-listening to the lectures.

After school, Ichigo was determined to find his lost hairbrush again. He opened the front door and kicked off his shoes before stepping inside.

"I'm home," he called. He pressed himself to the wall to avoid a flying Isshin, barreling towards the door with his fists out in front of him.

"You're home awfully early!" his father cried jubilantly, sporting an injured forehead that bled profusely.

"Yeah, well... I've got homework," Ichigo replied monotonously.

"Oh? And here I was thinking that you were hiding something. Are you keeping secrets from your dear, ol' dad?" he interrogated, blocking his entrance to the stairs.

"I've got nothing to hide," he lied as his dad attempted to put him in a headlock, but he dodged so quickly, not even his father's sleeves touched him.

"Ah! That reminds me, son. I found something of yours this afternoon." At those words, Ichigo perked up.

"Did you find my hair-"

"Harem Magazine! That's right." Ichigo stumbled back, looking confused. Isshin produced a thick magazine with a busty woman on the front cover, wearing nothing but sheer white negligee.

"Ehh!? A what? Th-that's not mine!" But no matter what he said, the grin on his father's face got wider with each protest.

"Now, now, there's no need to hide it, Ichigo. You do take after your strapping father, after all. Although, I didn't know you liked foreign subscriptions, mind if I borrow--" Ichigo sighed as his foot connected hard the with the back of his father's knee, knocking him out of the way.

"Keep it, have fun."

"What a considerate son I have..." he heard his dad mumble as he made his way up to his room. The homework was a lie, however he did have a bit of studying to do. As soon as he shut the door behind him, he threw himself on his bed facedown. For some reason, he felt a bit tired. Normally, his daily exertions of avoiding his father's overzealous attacks were no big deal. However, there were other things that had happened that day. Did he really want to think about it all now?

"Not really..." he mumbled to himself, letting his eyes close and his body relax. He would figure it out later.

_Ichigo found himself running, chasing someone. A small and delicately framed girl was running towards him, a single lock of inky black hair falling between her eyes. She was so far away, so he ran faster. His lungs burned at the effort of sprinting to meet her. Even from far away, he could see that her face was red, and her mouth was opened in a soft 'O', desperate for more oxygen. His arms swung sharply at his side, mirroring the girl in the same manner. Sweat dripped down the side of his face, and as he wiped it off, he felt his cheeks burning. As he stared hard in concentration, he seemed to hear her say something, but he couldn't make out what it was. Her lips were definitely moving, creating words, and he strained to hear them. But something was blocking his ability to do so... another sound overlapping her cries. He realized, with surprise, that it was his own breathing, shallow and labored as he tried to reach her. She was coming closer eventually, and he was finally able to hear what she was saying._

_"Ah... hah..." she panted sharply, reaching out her arms for him. What was she saying? He wanted to know! Suddenly, he stopped running and bent over to catch his breath. As he knelt down, sweat pouring from his brow, he looked down to see Rukia lying beneath him. However, something was wrong. She was gasping for air, and reaching out to him, grabbing his arms as she writhed under him. Her gasps turned to moans, and not of pain. His eyes followed her delicate hands, which were squeezing his forearms in a vice-like grip, all the way down her bicep and to her shoulders. Her skin was bare, and nothing covered her body. He felt her slim legs wrap around his hips. Lightly pink lips parted on her face and she whispered seductively._

_"Ichigo..."_

_Ichigo..._

Ichigo's eyes flew open and he grabbed his chest. His heart felt as if it would burst out of his skin. Darkness flooded the room and all was quiet. He stole a glance at the alarm clock. 10:45 PM? He had fallen asleep, that was for sure. But that was the strangest dream he had ever had. It was almost like a-a... he bit his lip when he thought of the possibility. A wet dream? Looking down at the crotch of his pants, he saw no signs of such a thing and sighed with relief. At the same time, he heard another sigh. Lighter and more... feminine. He listened closer and traced the sound back to his closet.

Of course, his mind went straight to Rukia. Was she having a nightmare? Making those sounds... it made his mind go back to this morning, when she was on top of him, ever innocent and unaware of how she had made him feel. He didn't know how to really describe it. The only words he could come up with on how he felt was... hot and bothered. He tiptoed slowly to the door, and could feel her spirit energy flare up.

"Rukia," he whispered, pressing his ear against the closet door. This time, unlike this morning, there was an answer.

"Oh, Ichigo!" And he froze in place. Did she just... call out his name? His mouth felt dry as his pulse raced inside his veins. Something else was coming from inside, a different noise. He thought it was the rustling of fabric, and thought maybe she was just having a dream. But it was more rhythmic? Instantly, he gathered his wits and settled on solving this mystery.

"R-Rukia. I'm coming in. Forgive me!" The door was pulled aside, revealing the answer to all of his questions.

The small, raven-haired girl was lying on her back, legs bent and spread open. Her pajama shirt was unbuttoned completely, and one pert breast could be seen peeking from under the fabric. The other was hidden under her hand, receiving a very personal massage. And her other hand was... it was...

"Rukia..." he breathed, and her violet eyes flew open. She saw him standing there, in absolute awe, and she suppressed a yell of indignation, grabbing the blanket at her feet and yanking it up to her neck.

"Ichigo!" she sputtered, turning a deep red as she curled defensively underneath the quilt. He could only stare at her, mouth slightly agape. He didn't know what to say to her! But words came spilling out anyway, to his utter humiliation.

"So...y-you had my hairbrush! And-and you were using for, I mean- All this time?" And after that, he couldn't speak anymore. He kept hearing her voice echoing in his head, calling his name lustfully. She thought of him in that way? How long had it been like this?

"I'm sorry... I wasn't thinking," she mumbled, bringing her blanket slowly above her eyes. She seemed so ashamed of her actions that she didn't even want to look at him.

"It's okay," was all he could come up with. What else could he say in this kind of situation? To think that Rukia Kuchiki, the girl that gave up her shinigami powers for a no-name like him, was pleasuring herself in his closet, with his _hairbrush_ of all things, and panting his name all the while! They were both silent for a few seconds. They both wished the other would say something.

"Um... Ichigo?" Rukia finally broke the silence, "Do you think you could perhaps, well... give me a minute?"

"Oh... oh! Right, sorry." With a fierce blush, he cleared his throat and forced his shaking hand to close his closet door, hiding the embarrassed girl away from his sight. As soon as the latch clicked in place, he heard her give a sigh of relief. He tried to move his body, but it didn't seem to want to obey. All he wanted to do was go back to his bed and fall asleep and pretend all of this never happened. Maybe he could concentrate his spirit energy and try to forget about it completely. Maybe he could put himself into a deep state of meditation, causing him to fall asleep peacefully. Or maybe he could ask her to erase his memory and never have to speak about it again. Or maybe... he could turn back around and jump into his own closet with her, surrendering his body to his raging teenage hormones. He cursed his last 'maybe' idea, because at the time, that seemed like the best option to relieve his stress. Now all he wanted to do was--

"Ichigo, I'm coming out." Miraculously, his body regained its ability to move and he stumbled away, landing clumsily on his mattress. Rukia emerged, fully dressed and decent, though stiff as a board when she stood straight up. She didn't look at him for more than a glance, and then left the room. By the sound of her footsteps, she seemed to have gone to the bathroom. He found that he could do nothing but stare at his now empty closet. Before, he had never given it a second thought. But he supposed that it was awfully cramped in there. Even for a small girl such as Rukia, he was sure that it wasn't very comfortable. And yet she had been staying in there for a few months. He could offer her another pillow. No, that would just take up space when there was already so little of it to begin with. So how could she have more space? The answer came clear as a bell.

When Rukia came back, she snuck in with such stealth that if Ichigo were not spiritually aware, he would have never sensed her. She was surprised to find her futon and blankets lying on the floor, neatly pulled back in an invitation for sleep.

"What's this doing out here?" she asked. Ichigo was lying flat on his back up on his bed, looking out the window. He caught a faint whiff of fresh soap wafting over to him. Apparently, she had scrubbed herself clean before coming back in.

"I was just thinking. You don't have much room in that closet of mine. So... why don't you sleep out here tonight?"

"Did you really just ask me that? What if your sisters find out, or your father?" she protested, trying to hide her shaking voice. However, Ichigo was calm in the matter.

"I know when they get up in the morning, and I'll make sure to wake you up and stuff you back in the closet." He turned his head and met her eyes, his expression serious. At that moment, she just noticed how weak her knees were. This guy... he seemed so protective. Even outside of battle, he still cared for her.

"Oh... thank you. But, I don't think I can really sleep now. I'm afraid I'll just be lying there, awake."

"To be honest, I can't fall asleep either. Not after, well, you know," he trailed off. Rukia looked down at her feet. She found herself apologizing again.

"Don't keep apologizing. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Are you kidding me? I've completely shamed myself. I wasn't able to control my emotions. I... I used a brush for a s-sex toy! Your brush!" She covered her face with her hands, completely upset with herself.

"Well... it is a bit unusual. I never thought that you could find a use for something like that other than hair styling."

"Don't talk about it so casually. My secret's out," she whispered, sounding defeated. "I even went through the trouble of buying you a new one."

"Huh? Why would you do that?"

"Idiot! I just figured that you wouldn't want it after what I... what I did to it." Ichigo tried to laugh, because at any other time, this situation might be comical. However, once he looked at Rukia, he found that he could never laugh at her. All this time, she had this sexual frustration trapped inside her, and he had resorted to such primitive means to release it, all while trying to keep it a secret. He didn't know what to think of it. She had finally calmed down and was standing there, looking down at her futon on the floor.

"I guess so. Then," Ichigo sat up, crossing his legs, "If you don't think you'll tire of it, why don't you keep it?"

"Okay, if you don't mind. Wait, what do you mean 'if I won't tire from it?' What are you saying?" She took a step forward, standing at the corner of his bed.

"I'm just saying that it might not be adequate. You get my drift?" Rukia's jaw dropped, surprised that he was being so blunt.

"Yes, I get it. You don't have to be so crass!" She glared at him, her arms folded over her chest. He met her gaze just as strongly, and her eyes skittered away. She saw his alarm clock and it read 11:58. Almost midnight.

"Look... we need to get some rest, or we'll definitely be late for class in the morning."

"Fine. I'll wake you up tomorrow," he replied shortly.

"No need, I can get up myself," she shot back.

"Okay, you don't need my help, I get it."

"You're right, I don't.

"I know, you're a big girl. Fine then."

"Fine!" The both of them got closer with each childish comeback, finally facing each other only inches apart. Rukia clenched her teeth, determined to end this horrible conversation and get some sleep. Neither of them blinked.

"But even so... you needed my hairbrush."

"Aghh! That's not the point!" she cried, grabbing the front of his shirt, a vein popping out from underneath her messy bangs.

"Oh, it isn't? Then maybe you can explain why you didn't at least ask for my permission. The very least you could've done was say that you had stolen it and would never give it back."

"Are you insane? How could I ever ask permission for something like that?" she asked exasperatedly, clenching his shirt tightly in her fists.

"Well then, 'if you can't ask for permission, then ask for forgiveness'. Is that how it works?"

"I... I don't know," she flustered. Of course, she had apologized profusely from before. "I guess so." Her grip slackened and she looked away.

"Then, if that's how it is, I want you to forgive me in advance." Confusion crossed her face and she didn't have time to react. Strong hands encircled her and she was pulled flush against him. His body heat surrounded her, and it was as if a hot coal had been dropped down her throat. She was being kissed. Time seemed to speed up and halt at the same time, it was such a strange sensation. Ichigo drew her into his lap, nipping at her bottom lip. It lasted for forever, and still it was not enough. Finally, they broke away and Rukia leaned her head against his chest, curled up like a cat.

"So, am I forgiven?" he said softly. Her eyes fluttered as his low voice reverberated against her ear, sending a warm, languid feeling through her body.

"Yes... am I forgiven also?"

"Hm. No." Rukia pulled back, looking perplexed.

"Why not? I said I was sorry for what I did. What gives?"

"What you did was unforgiveable, because you didn't ask me to help you in the first place." He placed another kiss on her brow, letting his words sink in. Her face turned red once more.

"Oh, you!" She rose up and pushed him on his back, her hands flat on his chest. "I'm not going to ask you if you keep this up."

"Sorry, guess I got carried away." Rukia sighed, then gave a smile as she lowered herself for another kiss. They fell asleep in each other's embrace. Tomorrow was another day.

~Tsuzuke~

**Author's Note:** So, what did you think? Tell me honestly, okay? I'll be honest with you in return. I used to hate the idea of Rukia and Ichigo, preferring Ichi/Hime and Rukia/Renji instead. But after watching the first season again, and of course, all the musicals, it's clear that there could be something between them. So I gave it a chance. I hope I did okay. I'm leaving it open-ended in case I get another idea to continue with.

Thanks for reading, and please review if you can!


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